7deadlysins challenge
by Heide DeVries
Summary: SheriffGisborne. Some chapters slash, others only quasislash. Rated for safety. Envy and Greed up. Greed: A castle with a mew, humor fic.
1. Common Outlaw

_**Title**: "Invidia"  
**Prompt**: Envy  
**Rating**: Work-Safe (PG/PG-13)  
**Characters**: Sheriff of Nottingham and Guy of Gisborne  
**Fandom**: Robin Hood (BBC2006)  
**Word Count**: 1,222  
**Summary/Spoilers**: Spoilers for the end of the first series and minor spoilers for the "Loyalty" episode. Gisborne and the Sheriff talk about Marian.  
**Disclamer**: I don't own Robin Hood BBC 2006; And I don't own Richard Armitage (SOBS!) _

* * *

Guy propped his foot against the wall to keep his balance, his head was still reeling from walking up on the chapel floor. He did not want to think of the circumstances that lead to his state - how he'd been left at the altar by the woman of his dreams. 

He imagined he deserved it. He'd dreaded that Marian would find out that the King coming back from the Holy Land was only a sick plot of the Sheriff's to capture Robin Hood and the Nobles that would forsake the Sheriff at the return of King Richard.

Guy clinched his fist, shaking his head as he recalled the look on Marian's face once she'd realized that the Sheriff intended to kill her father as soon as he attempted to give information away about the Sheriff's ill deeds. Then, for all Guy's pleading, she did not marry him. Instead...

Bringing a gloved hand up Gisborne tenderly touched the spot on his eye that had been bruised by Marian's cruel swing at him. Closing his eyes he whispered, "Marian, I will not give up so easily. Even if it was a trick, when the real King Richard returns you will be mine..."

With those words of determination said he could find the will to go on. He was not a patient man but he would be - for Marian, his beautiful maid. He would win her over Robin Hood, and every suitor that came to challenge. He would win her: honestly or not.

While Gisborne's mind began to turn once more thinking of what he would say to Marian the next time he saw her - he could tell her that he'd not known about the King being a fake - Guy didn't notice the Sheriff of Nottingham's entrance. Vaysey moved swiftly and smoothly through the room, throwing himself down into the chair at the end of the long dinning table. Sheriff didn't pay much mind to Gisborne as he grumbled loudly resting his head within his hands. Rubbing his temples the Sheriff continued to fume for a moment before finally giving Gisborne a glance, "Honeymoon over already, Gisborne?"

Sir Guy didn't bother to reply to the snide remark. "I see your plot fell apart again, my lord sheriff."

"Well, it did go quite well for a while at least, until Robin came, naturally." Sheriff admitted as he leaned over taking his sandal from his foot and inspecting it. The sandal had a large hole, where Robin shot with accurate precision into the piece of footwear and hoisted the Sheriff up to the ceiling to dangle. "Win some, lose some, eh? But, oh dear, I do hate to lose, right Gisborne?"

"Of course, my lord." Gisborne simply agreed, crossing his arms and closed his eyes. All became quiet in the room, neither of them speaking for a minute or so.

"Well, I suppose, you didn't get what you wanted either then, eh? Or I'd be seeing less of you, not to mention Marian." Vaysey's mouth chanced a clever grin, "Gisborne, your ambitions should be re-evaluated. I can understand your attempts for power and money... that's what all men strive for... but you know what I consider a bad decision is your attempts to win the Earl of Huntington's former fiancée."

Guy suppressed the urge to speak rashly to the Sheriff. "Former Earl... My lord."

"Lepers, Gisborne! You are better off without her..." Sheriff stated, as he had once before and many of times but this didn't seem to stop Guy of Gisborne's lusting after Marian. "Maybe what you need is a hobby. Have you tried falconry? As the Master of Arms I'm sure you could find something far more productive that to crone over the loss of some petty woman..."

Gisborne heard a chair scream as it was pushed along the wooden flooring. Then he heard the Sheriff's soft approach (towards him, he assumed).

"Gisborne..." The Sheriff whispered softly into his subordinate's direction, "You know the best way to forget about a bad habit?"

"My lord?" Guy opened his eyes slowly, deeply troubled by the carefully chosen words by his superior.

"You take it out of your life..." Hissed the sheriff, with a creeping smile on his face. "With nothing left to remind you about your misfortune, you will forget all about your bad habits. And..."

Vaysey snaked his arms between Gisborne's back and the wall, giving him an awkward embrace. Leaning in even closer to stare the taller man Gisborne in the eyes, "... I would be most certainly happy to help you out, my friend... I am sure I can think of some reason to make poor Marian and her beloved father... disappear..."

Gisborne tried to keep his cool, but his throat was tightening as the Sheriff's venomous words struck his ears. Now he felt torn; torn between wanting to agree with the Sheriff - that Marian was nothing but a habit such as biting one's nails or shuffling one's feet. Another half of him, the half that cared deeply for Marian (be it for his own selfish reasons or true love for her), wanted to throw the Sheriff of Nottingham against a wall, and take him by the throat until the life was choked from him.

He said nothing; he would not let himself be seduced again into letting the Sheriff do as he pleased within his life. Last time Gisborne's heart wavered and let the Sheriff win him over, his friend Lambert paid the price with his life. "My lord, I have not given up on her. She only took offense because she believes I have lied to her."

"And you have. If I were a weepy woman I would have declared the relationship off, and maybe she already has. Promise or no promise..." Sheriff shot back, resting his head on Gisborne's shoulder, "Perhaps... she's run off with Robin by now, eh?"

"If she has..." Gisborne felt a lump in his throat. The familiar pang of jealously coming back to him as he gritted his teeth and spoke, "You will not have to see to her - I will hand her over to you to be hung myself..."

To that the Sheriff only smiled his wicked smile and let the taller man free from his embrace. "I like that spirit, my friend. That's why we have such a close bond to one another. Great minds think alike... but if the time does come and she I _is _a traitor leave her to me. After all, we don't want to end up breaking your poor heart, by making your hurt someone you deeply cared for... that treated you like an utter fool, hm?"

"Of course, my lord." He'd been bested again; Sheriff won the fight for Gisborne's allegiance once again. Gisborne could only hope that Marian would accept him back or he might have to see her pretty face suffer at the hands of a galoer.

_But then again_, Gisborne thought, _if she'd rather chose Hood over me... maybe she deserves being treated like a common outlaw. _


	2. Castle With a Mew

_**Title**: "Avaritia: A Castle With A Mew" _

_**Fandom**: Robin Hood BBC 2006_

_**Rating**: PG (Work-safe)  
_

_**Characters**: Sir Guy of Gisborne/Sheriff of Nottingham_

_**Prompt**: Greed_

_**Short Summary**: No spoilers. No slash. Sorry if you wanted either. Humor fic._

_**Disclaimer**: I don't own Robin Hood, but I do own a dvd and a book or two about the subject. _

* * *

The horses brayed and kicked their legs in the dark, sandy road that lead to Sherwood Forest. Along the side of the rode the horses waited, at their master's commands, without moving an inch besides their occasional shifting and other things they could not help. The soldiers atop the horses mimicked their transportation; not a single of them moved save a scratch to their nose or a picking at their ear. The morning mist had yet to settle and covered the ground with gray, making everything seem ghostly and somber. It was early winter; one could tell by the outfits that the soldiers wore—not a single piece of flesh showing. 

Gisborne's horse let out a snort, dancing in place as it subtly told the rider of his boredom. The noir-clad rider leaned down, patting his mare's mane gentle, whispering sweetly to her. "Steady. We're all anxious to be on our way."

Gisborne was exhausted from a long night's of racking his brain over the Robin Hood dilemma. Only when he'd finally settled down, falling into the Locksley Manor's most comfy bed did he realize he would get no sleep this night. The Sheriff's man was let in by a servant, and then what came next was inevitable.

Sheriff demanded that Gisborne gather his soldiers up. Demanded that they should wait at the edge of Sherwood forest and to halt the first merchant that made their way through. The purpose of this charade? Gisborne knew not.

Finally after a five hours wait the horses began to perk up their ears, neighing lowly as they did their dances once more. Gisborne and his men heard the distinct noise of a horse's hooves and the whistling of some unknown man. Out of the dark morning woods come a poor-looking shopkeeper with an iron-wrought cart. His hat was made of a poorly tanned hide with a sickly looking bird's feather drooping to one side. Gisborne snapped a finger at his guards and they stopped in front of the man, looking very stubborn and impassive as Gisborne approached himself. The man stopped, glancing around with a confused look on his face, "Wha' be the meaning of dis, sirs?"

His teeth were yellowed and stinking as he spoke. Some of the men visibly snarled their lips to the man's appearance. "I ain't done nothin' wrong? I'm a lowl' travalin' vend'a!"

Gisborne kept his distance and curled his mouth into a sadistic smile, "Whatever the matter is, you have a meeting with our Lord Sheriff now. Kindly step down from your cart; men seize the cart…"

The vender-keeper started to put up a resistance, yelling, "Ya' cann'unt do this to me! Sneak-thieves and robbers of the King's crown! I am a—."

Gisborne's sword flashed, the dawn's light flashing on its shine. "I have no orders to bring you back in one piece, so do watch your tone, vender."

The vender only grumbled to this revelation; and Gisborne sheathed his sword once more. Gisborne smiled broadly as his men, lead by himself, headed back to the castle in Nottinghamshire. Upon arriving there, Gisborne ordered his guards to hold the traveler-vender in place as he made his announcement to the Sheriff of Nottingham. Dismounting Gisborne shot the vender a final airy smile before entering the darkness of the castle. He suspected the Sheriff was still in bed, seeing as though it was in the early morning and the Sheriff (despite asking of everyone else to rise early) was a late sleeper. He waited at the door for the guards to announce him to the Sheriff, and entered the room with a lively step. "My lord Sheriff, I have done as you asked: the man is waiting outside and—."

He got no further, the Sheriff approached him swiftly, and gave him a hardy slap on the back. Gisborne, not prepared for such affection from the Sheriff jerked forward for a moment, and stared at the older man. "Well done, Gisborne! Well done! There's nothing I like to hear of more than a job successfully completed. Now if only the same could be done about, oh say, that pesky group of bandits in the King's forest."

Gisborne was stung by that last bit of sarcasm but the Sheriff did not give it a second's thought. "Come now, Gisborne! Let's take us a look'see at this fellow's cart."

As they navigated the corridors to reach the courtyard Sir Guy questioned, "My lord, does this bandit have nothing to do with those rogues at all, then?"

"This fellow? Something to do with Hood, you say?" The Sheriff repeated, but said nothing more as they exited the building and approached the shopkeeper's cart. The Sheriff turned to the vender for a moment, asking, "What have we here? A vender traveling the King's Roads without the permission of the Sheriff of the province? Well, glad you brought him straight away to me, Gisborne!"

Gisborne frown. Thinking to himself, _What__ nonsense is he speaking of this time? One doesn't need permission of the Sheriff to vender out goods unless they are of the dangerous sort. They only need to pay taxes… _Yet he said nothing but nodded his head to the Sheriff, agreeing, "Of course, my lord!"

"Wh'a turkey-litter an' rubbish!" The vender cried, straining against the guards' arms as they restrained him, "Eve' if there were such a la'—your men were layin' in wait for whosoeve' crossed they paths!"

"Waiting, you say? What sort of idea is that? Well, we'll let you go easy this time…" Sheriff mused pulling at the end of his beard for a moment, "Men… take the contents of this venders cart and let him leave the castle."

The vender, perhaps unaware of the Sheriff's _love_ for hangings and torture, continued to strain against the guards, yelling and waving his fist, "Y' don't fool me! I kn' 'actly what y'a doin'! Y'a thief in Sheriff' clothin'!"

Sheriff continued to smile, only telling the guards to take the cart's contents to the back. But as the guards went around the backside of the cart, opening the door a strange cry came from the cart. Gisborne had heard it before, but his memory of where failed him. Seeing the guards' uncomfortable look as they attempted to unload the cargo, Gisborne turned to the vender and asked, "You, vender, what is your trade?"

"I sell exotic birds!" Spat the yellow-toothed vender. Out of the cart flapped several peacocks, all male and colorful in every respect.

Gisborne was visibly disappointed, and glanced back to the Sheriff who's only reply was: "Well, I always wanted a castle with a great mew, but this imbecile's prices were horrid."


End file.
